


star shopping

by kkulbear



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drug Use, Funeral, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:02:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkulbear/pseuds/kkulbear
Summary: But the truth is, and what Baekhyun knew in his heart: you can’t save everyone.





	star shopping

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: please do not read this if you are easily triggered by any of the subject matter referenced in the tags. This has a lot of heavy angst and no fluff at all and I mean every tag that I used. Seriously, don't read this if any of it will bother you, it's not a happy story and it does not have a happy ending.  
> Now that this is out of the way, this is a story that I've been working on for a long time-- even though it's short, this is the third time that I have rewritten it because I didn't feel like it was right. But now I feel like it's what it's supposed to be. This is based off of true events and this story means a lot to me. Thank you for taking the time to read it.

Baekhyun’s fingers scrambled to press the button on the touchscreen, replaying the last words he would ever hear from Chanyeol. Minseok had sent the recording to him after the fact. And of course he was the bearer of bad news for Baekhyun. Now, days later after the funeral had already happened, and Chanyeol was buried away forever underground, Baekhyun was alone. The only thing to keep him company was Chanyeol’s voice relaying hazily from the headphones tucked tightly in his ears. He was curled in the fetal position, a pillow clutched in his arms, squeezing it against his chest and trying desperately to stop his fucking heart from aching so much.  

 

_ Minseok, it happened. It really happened, oh fuck, I really got it bad… I think I love him. It’s just everything about him, he’s my Baekhyun, he’s all mine. _

 

Tears welled in the corners of Baekhyun’s eyes, making his vision go blurry as he listened to the voice of the man playing. He was still in disbelief as he sprawled himself upon his sheets, his hands finding purchase in the grey fabric. Chanyeol had been there the day before his body was found, Baekhyun tucked warmly in his arms as they protected each other from everything in the world. When they were like that, it was as if they were the only two people who existed in the world. Nothing could touch them, no one could reach them; it was immaculate and pure. 

 

_ “I’ll see you tomorrow, Baekhyun.”  _ he had said, placing a feather-light kiss on his forehead; but it was an empty promise. Baekhyun would never see Chanyeol alive again after that day.

 

Baekhyun knew about Chanyeol’s depression and his post-traumatic stress disorder. He knew all too well about the panic attacks that plagued him when a certain smell would enter his nose, or when another trigger would brush into one of his ears. Chanyeol would become dejected, crying and staring at walls while he shook from the sobs that wracked through his body. Baekhyun had always tried everything he could to calm him down-- but truthfully nothing that he did could ever really help much.

 

He would hold Chanyeol’s head in his lap and grabbing his hand to lace their fingers together, petting his hair and rocking him back and forth, trying to lull him into a sense of security… but nothing ever worked. He would go through waves where he’d cry so hard that his face would turn red and then it would dissipate into silent sobs, tears running down his cheeks as he laid there. Baekhyun would hum to him, trying to ground Chanyeol and bring him back from wherever he was in his head. Once Chanyeol had cried himself out and his red and tired eyes stared off into the distance, Baekhyun would try to lift the mood a little, always earning a half-hearted whimper from Chanyeol.

 

“Such a crybaby.” he'd say, before he would run his thumb over Chanyeol’s smooth cheeks, rubbing his damp skin as Chanyeol leaned into his touch, the glint of a smile apparent on his lips. He would always hug his arms around Baekhyun’s waist, pulling him as close as possible before falling asleep. 

 

One day, however, Chanyeol told Baekhyun about what kept him fucked up, what prevented him from getting better and just being able to live his life… and Baekhyun had never been so disgusted or so heartbroken in his entire life. He didn’t understand how someone could damage Chanyeol to the point where the smell of lotion could send him into fits, or words strung together in just the right order could make him cry. Even just seeing someone who resembled the man who had done him so fucking wrong made Chanyeol lose his breath completely and shrink into a man who was only ten inches tall and Baekhyun couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.

 

Chanyeol tried to forget, he tried so fucking hard to stop remembering what had happened to him. But some days it was like every time he closed his eyes he could feel the hands around him, he could feel his clothes being torn off, and he could hear the disgusting words dropping from his mouth as he coaxed Chanyeol into doing what he wanted him to and there was nothing Chanyeol could fucking do about it. When Chanyeol opened his eyes, he was alone and the man was in the past, unable to touch him or fuck with him anymore, but that didn’t stop his chest from heaving. He wanted nothing more but to move on and every time he  _ thought _ he got to a good point where he  _ thought _ he could deal with everything, something would waltz into him, sending him into a sensory overload and making him cling to himself because god dammit, he didn’t want it, he didn’t fucking want it and he never wanted it. He didn’t want the hands that snaked around him and clung to his hips as he relived the moments every time something triggered him, making his breath too shallow for his lungs, his tongue too big for his mouth, and his tears too abundant for his eyes. He never fucking wanted it. 

 

Chanyeol had turned to trying to suppress everything in a different way, if he couldn’t forget it himself, then he had to forget it  _ somehow _ . He started to chase crushed pills, breathing in the white lines that burned his nose and made his eyes water-- but at least he was crying for a different reason now. They always took his mind off of bloody well anything, even made him forget his own name sometimes. But it's what he wanted, and sometimes he did too much. Baekhyun remembers finding him collapsed in his apartment the first time. Chanyeol wanted to die, but Baekhyun couldn’t let him. He tried as hard as he could to open the door that Chanyeol had propped himself against so that no one could get in. He eventually used all his weight to shove the door open, scooting Chanyeol into the middle of the floor as he did. He did his best to drag Chanyeol from his bedroom to the living room in his apartment, his lips had already turned blue and he couldn’t help him; he couldn’t save him. So he called the ambulance.

 

Baekhyun visited Chanyeol in the hospital, asking him why… Why he tried to do it and why he would leave him behind like that. And all Chanyeol had to say was they he didn’t want to remember, he didn’t want to feel what had happened anymore, and he didn’t want to be here. Baekhyun decided to keep his questions to himself after that.

 

_ I wish I could be happy, I know I really can’t be but Baekhyun brings me pretty close, you know? Oh god, he’s everything.  _

 

They think that Chanyeol’s death was an accident. He didn’t leave a note and he  _ seemed  _ happier. He had stopped having panic attacks around Baekhyun and he never talked about what was on his mind anymore. But it wasn’t because it was gone, oh god no. He was just tired of talking about it, tired of draining Baekhyun like that with  _ his _ problems when Baekhyun had things of his own to worry about. He was just tired of everything. But the fact that Chanyeol stopped talking made Baekhyun feel safe, like he could let his guard down because Chanyeol’s issues were out of sight and out of mind. He stopped coming around and checking up on Chanyeol so often, he thought he could trust him with himself. Minseok is the one that found his body that morning. Another overdose, of course, because Chanyeol always wanted to run away from his problems and just pretend they didn’t exist. Snorting too many white lines, too many to even count and so much that he was numb, his vision blurring into a single colour and the rest of his senses followed suit, fading into an oblivion as his limbs shook and he struggled to breathe, his throat letting out a final wheeze as stomach acid bubble up in his throat. 

 

_ I don’t think I’ll get over his smile. To be honest, I don’t want to. _

 

Baekhyun choked out a sob, clutching the phone to his chest and shoving his head in the pile of pillows at the head of his bed. How could something like this happen to Chanyeol-- any of it for that matter. He couldn’t help but to wonder how he could’ve saved Chanyeol, it was the only thing that occupied his mind ever since Minseok called him from the hospital parking lot, crying into the phone to tell him that Chanyeol was brain dead. Why wasn’t anything good enough to keep him here? Why couldn’t he save him? God, all he wanted was to save him and let him know that everything would be okay, that he could get past everything, he could be  _ saved. _ But the truth is, and what Baekhyun knew in his heart: you can’t save everyone. 

 

Chanyeol’s funeral was fucking unbearable. There was a lot of people there, all buzzing around the casket as he laid there in a suit… Chanyeol had never worn a suit the whole time that Baekhyun had known him-- which was a pretty long time. Baekhyun was afraid to see him like this. But he had been one of the first ones there, only a couple family members scattered in chairs in the parlour as Chanyeol’s mom sat in a chair at the foot of the casket. She was dressed from head to toe in black with her hair tied into a tight bun. He face was colourless and blank, almost like she felt nothing.

 

_ “I’m so sorry.”  _ She had said when Baekhyun showed up, approaching her and being enveloped in her arms before he knew what was happening.

 

Baekhyun partially blamed her because she didn’t give a shit until he was actually gone. She didn’t bother to check up on him when he was alive… she didn’t even try to help him with his issues or his addiction, everything was just swept under the rug. 

 

He didn’t want to cry here. Not on Chanyeol’s mother, of all people. But he did feel comforted in her arms because it was  _ someone.  _ Baekhyun just wished that Minseok would hurry up and get here so he had someone to be next to and distract him.

 

_ “You can get closer. You can touch him if you want.”  _ She had said, finally breaking their hug.

 

Baekhyun took a deep and quivering breath to prep himself for what he was about to see. He stepped up, looking into the open casket and surprisingly Chanyeol looked peaceful. He looked the same as he always did and that’s what hurt Baekhyun the most. If he had looked in the casket and saw a monster lying there, it would’ve been so much easier to move away from the box and take his seat. But  _ his  _ Chanyeol was laying there, his eyes closed and his hands folded over his stomach like he had fallen asleep there. Baekhyun ran his finger along Chanyeol’s cheek; he was cold and it was almost like touching a porcelain doll.

 

_ “How did we end up like this, Yeol?”  _ he whispered to himself. He paused as he felt his breath hitch in his throat, unable to stop his face as it contorted into an expression of pure agony and sorrow. He couldn’t prevent the tears that rolled down his cheeks as much as he wanted to.  _ “Why did you leave me? Why…”  _

 

Baekhyun couldn’t bring himself to leave Chanyeol’s side-- and Chanyeol’s mom noticed it as he stood there, his hand reaching out to pat Chanyeol’s every so often. She asked the funeral home worker to bring him a chair, which he sat at the head of the casket so that he was sitting above Chanyeol’s head. He deserved to be able to sit here during the visitation before the service started. Baekhyun kept a hand on Chanyeol as he sat there, watching drones of people walk in and come up to Chanyeol’s mother, not paying Baekhyun a bit of attention as he sat there, his hand either on Chanyeol’s shoulder or cheek.

 

It was pure hell when he finally had to go out and sit down with everyone else as the service finally started. Minseok had saved a seat for him in the front row that had been reserved for close friends and family. Minseok put his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders, pulling him in close. They were both hurting more than anyone could ever know. They both wept as the service went on, only lasting about thirty minutes but feeling like a lifetime.

 

And then it was over. Baekhyun would never get to see Chanyeol’s face ever again, he’d never get to see his dumb smile or his big ears or feel his warmth when they laid together, held hands, kissed… it was all really over now. Chanyeol was  _ dead.  _

 

_ I should probably go now, Minseok. I know it's late as fuck and I figured you wouldn’t answer and I’ve left you a long enough message. But these x bars are calling me, I have to take care of them. Jesus, I’m so fucking drunk, Min. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, and tell Baekhyun I’ll see him tomorrow. Bye! _

 

But Chanyeol never saw the next day. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's sad, I'm sorry for killing him but I feel like this is me killing something that has been on my mind for four years. Thank you for reading. Leave a comment if u hate it or leave a kudos if u like it, i love all kinds of feedback.  
> find me  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/247yeol) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/rosyxuxi)


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